The Alchemist of Broken Dreams by Sienna Rose Blackwell 62
Chapter 62
DYLAN
Despite Beckett telling me to stay home and rest, I couldn’t do it. The walls of that apartment felt like they were closing in on me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Every corner reminded me of something I couldn’t remember and something 1
wasn’t sure I wanted to.
So I grabbed my bag, locked the door behind me, and headed to the shop anyway.
I needed distraction. Something to drown out the storm swirling in my head. Because if I stayed in that house any longer, I was sure I’d start clawing at the truth with my bare hands.
Walking down the familiar street should’ve comforted me, but instead, every step made my stomach twist tighter. The shop sign came into view, my little business tucked between two bigger establishments.
I reached the door and rested my hand on the handle, a cold wave washing over me. My fingers trembled.
I still couldn’t get hold of the possibility that Beckett might be lying to me. And if he did, were all those wedding pictures fake?
What if everything here was fake, too?
Just as I pushed the door open, the bell chimed and my assistant, Mia, looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Dylan? You’re here. I thought you weren’t coming today,” she said, brushing off the dirt on her apron.
“I got bored at home,” I replied, my voice a little too thin.
She frowned, stepping closer. “Did something happen? You look pale.”
I forced a smile, the muscles in my face barely cooperating. “No. Just didn’t sleep well.”
Mia studied me–too closely. It made my nerves jump.
“Do you want to sit down? I can get you some water.”
“No. I’m fine,” I insisted quickly, moving past her toward the counter. “Really. I just need to work. Keep my mind busy.”
“Okay,” she said softly, though I could hear the doubt wrapped in her voice. “I’ll be at the back if you need anything.”
When she disappeared behind the storage door, silence slowly filled the shop.
I slipped my bag behind the counter and let out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
I turned toward the small prep table, where buckets of fresh flowers waited to be arranged. Roses, peonies, lilies–bright, soft, alive. I reached for a rose, my fingers brushing its petals as if touching something delicate would steady me.
“Let’s not overthink things,” I whispered to myself.
I started sorting ribbons, trimming stems, and tying arrangements I barely even saw. No matter how hard I tried to keep my thoughts away from it, I still couldn’t help but question whether Beckett was telling the truth.
I was busy preparing the flowers when a soft chime broke through the fog of my thoughts as the front door opened. I stiffened automatically, glancing up with a polite smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“Good morning,” I greeted, my voice steadier than I felt.
Chapter 62
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But my heart wouldn’t calm. It kept pounding against my ribs like it knew something I didn’t–like every second that passed was pulling me closer to answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
Three men in dark suits filled the doorway, tall and serious, like shadows that didn’t belong in a place full of blooms. Their eyes swept the room before landing on me. My heart thumped hard against my ribs, a strange chill crawling up my spine.
“Miss Dylan?” The one in front asked, voice low and firm.
My fingers tightened around the ribbon I was tying. “Yes?” I tried to sound calm, but my voice came out thinner than I wanted.
“We need you to come with us,” another said. No warmth. No smile, Just cold urgency.
The room went strangely quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustle of flowers swaying in their buckets. The men stood there like shadows impossible to ignore. Their faces didn’t show much, but their eyes–their eyes watched every breath I took.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why,” I said, trying to sound brave even though my heart was beating too fast.
The tallest one glanced at the clock on the wall, jaw tightening as if time itself was his enemy. “It’s not our place to tell you anything, madam. Please come with us peacefully,” he said flatly.
“That’s not an answer,” I snapped back, fingers trembling around the bouquet I was supposed to be finishing. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
Another man stepped closer, his voice low and firm. “It’s safer if you come with us. That’s all you need to know for now.”
“I don’t even know you,” I whispered, feeling the edges of fear creep up my spine. “You can’t just walk in here and expect me to follow you like that.”
They didn’t argue. They didn’t raise their voices. They didn’t threaten me. They just kept insisting.
“Miss,” the tall one said again, softer this time, like he was trying to be patient. “Please. We don’t want to drag you out of here. But we will if we have to.”
My breath hitched.
“No, I’m not coming with you. Leave now before I call the police.”
They shared a look, silent but heavy, like a decision was made without a single word spoken. Before I even realized what was happening, the tall one reached for me.
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, stumbling back, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. Panic flooded my chest as another man. moved behind me, firm hands gripping my arms.
“Let me go!” I twisted, pushed, kicked–anything–but their hold only tightened. Buckets rattled, flowers fell, and water splashed onto the floor as they dragged me toward the door.
“Mia!” I cried, my voice cracking.
“I’m calling the police!” she shouted, hands shaking over the phone.
One of the men turned sharply. “Stay out of this if you don’t want your life to be in danger,” he warned.
My feet barely touched the ground as they hauled me outside. The cold air slapped my cheeks, tears stinging my eyes. I fought with everything I had, but they were stronger. Too strong.
“Stop! Let me talk to your boss! I deserve an explanation!” My voice trembled as they shoved me toward a sleek black car waiting by the curb.
Chapter 62
The door was yanked open.
“No! No, I’m not getting in there! I’m not coming with you!” I thrashed uselessly, nails digging into sleeves, arms, anything I could grab. But they forced me down into the back seat, the leather cold beneath me. A door slammed. Then the lock clicked.
Breathless. Trapped.
The tall one leaned in through the open door, his expression no longer harsh–just weighed down by something like guilt.
“Miss Dylan,” he said quietly, “this is for your safety. Our boss will explain once we get there.”
“For my safety?” I glared through the blur in my lashes. “You just kidnapped me!”
I pressed my hands against the cold window, staring out at the blur of buildings and trees as the car sped along the unfamiliar streets. My thoughts swirled, a storm I couldn’t quiet.
Who had taken me? Why? And most importantly, who was their boss? I had no idea what to expect. My pulse thudded in my ears, each beat a reminder of how completely out of control I was.
The men hadn’t said much. Just a few curt instructions and constant vigilance, but nothing about where we were going or why. I tried to read their expressions, but they were all unreadable, faces like masks.
I chewed my lower lip, glancing back at the darkened rearview mirror. Every muscle in my body was tense, ready to bolt if an opening appeared. My stomach churned with fear, anger, and the barest flicker of curiosity.
I tried to plan, tried to prepare myself for anything, but the truth was, I had no idea what I was walking into. My mind raced through every possible scenario.
The car took a sharp turn, and my heart jumped, I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.
The car finally came to a stop in front of a sprawling mansion, its gates tall and imposing, the stone walls gleaming faintly under the morning sun. My stomach twisted into tighter knots as the men helped me out of the car. They handled me carefully, their hands firm but careful, as if afraid even the slightest misstep might harm me.
I kept my eyes on them, wary, trying to read any hint of their intentions. They didn’t speak, only exchanged quiet nods as they guided me toward the massive double doors. The air smelled faintly of flowers and something crisp and expensive, the kind of scent that screamed wealth and
power.
Once inside, they led me down a long hallway, polished floors reflecting the faint sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Each step echoed, making my heart pound faster. I felt trapped, like a small animal being led into a cage.
Finally, they stopped in front of a heavy, wooden door. One of the men gently gestured for me to enter, and I hesitated.
“Madam,” he said softly, his tone almost apologetic, “please wait here. The boss will be with you shortly.”
“How long are you going to keep me waiting?” I echoed, my voice shaky. “I want to speak to your boss now!”
He shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. “I understand, ma’am, but he was in the middle of an important meeting. Please, just wait.”
I swallowed hard, not trusting them but knowing resistance was useless. I stepped inside the room they indicated. It was spacious, clean, and eerily quiet. A single window let in pale light, and a sturdy door stood between me and the rest of the
mansion.
“Is there… anyone I can call? Or-” I hesitated. “Can I at least let me call my husband?”
The man’s voice softened even further. “It’s not up to me, madam. I apologize.”
10:39 Wed, Jan 7
Chapter 62
The men carefully closed the door behind me, the lock clicking into place. They didn’t slam it or act aggressively, they lingered just long enough to make sure I was unharmed, then retreated silently, leaving me alone in the unfamiliar room.
I pressed my back against the door, taking in the luxury around me but feeling every bit the prisoner.
“Safe?” I whispered to myself, voice trembling. “Safe… from what?”
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.
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